


Scott, Stiles and ComicCock

by marguerite_26



Series: my mating games ficlets and drabbles [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, M/M, Male Friendship, Masturbation, Porn Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:07:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/790719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marguerite_26/pseuds/marguerite_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts mid-fuck scene. Sonja’s pornos always do. None of this credit shit, it’s like a Bond film -- Bam! Right into the action. It’s one of the (many, many) reasons she is their favorite porn star.</p><p>She’s on her knees, blowing a guy in a Batman suit. He’s apparently saved her from having her purse stolen and she’s very grateful. Enthusiastically grateful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scott, Stiles and ComicCock

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Movie Night challenge at Mating Games.
> 
> It's currently unbeta'd. If you see anything, feel free to point it out.

Stiles looks up at the soft knock on his open bedroom door.

“Movie night?” Scott says, his face so full of hope, Stiles can’t help his laugh.

“Movie. Night.” Stiles pats his laptop. “Scott, my man, it is _so fucking_ movie night.”

Beaming, Scott bursts into the room. “Holy shit! You got it?” His voice is an excited overly-loud attempt at a whisper like he’s warring between elation and the fact that Stiles’ dad is just across the hall.

Stiles nods. “And you owe me, bro,” he says, “the site I downloaded it from was dodgy as shit. Avast stopped like six trojans.”

“Jesus.”

“Right?” Stiles set the laptop at the foot of his bed while Scott arranged the pillows to his liking. “If my laptop doesn’t power on tomorrow, I’ll know why.”

“Worth it, though, right?”

Stiles knows his face is mirroring Scott’s grin. “Gonna be.” He’d checked out a couple scenes -- just to make sure the file actually played and was indeed a full pirated copy of Sonja Sly’s ComicCock. “Can’t believe DC got this shit banned. Marvel would have just laughed their asses off and bathed in the free advertizing.”

“I’m off, Stiles,” his dad called from downstairs. “Stay out of trouble.”

They shout back their ‘byes’ and share a smirk.

“Is he working? It’s friday night.”

“Nah,” Stiles says, “Town council meeting. They take at least three hours because Mrs. Roth on Baker street never shuts up about potholes.”

Scott snorts, settling back against the pillows. “Thank you, Mrs. Roth.”

Stiles tosses a box of Kleenex and a tube of hand lotion between them as the first scene begins.

It starts mid-fuck scene. Sonja’s pornos always do. None of this credit shit, it’s like a Bond film -- Bam! Right into the action. It’s one of the (many, many) reasons she is their favorite.

She’s on her knees, blowing a guy in a Batman suit. He’s apparently saved her from having her purse stolen and she’s very grateful. Enthusiastically grateful.

Sonja pulls off Batman’s cock and moans. “I want a Batfacial.”

“This is the best,” Scott says.

Stiles chuckles because it so is. _Batfacial._

Stiles’ bed isn’t big and Scott’s shoulder is pressed against his. Maybe it should be weird, but it’s not. They’ve done this before. They like the same sort of porn and after all they’ve been through, touching their dicks in front of each other is not worth getting embarrassed about.

They’re two and half minutes in, and Scott’s already going for his zipper.

“Seriously?”

“Shut up. I woke up late and didn’t have time to get off in the shower this morning.”

“Sucks, dude.” Those days are the worst.

In contrast, Stiles is the epitome of control at the moment. (He’d gotten off twice this morning before school and again after he’d checked that the download worked).

He kept his eyes on the screen. Batman’s been thanked (thoroughly) and now the title and credits pop up with a black batmobile look-alike in the background. Stiles shifts a bit to get more comfortable. Sonja’s just woken up to find Catwoman in her bedroom, her hand in Sonja’s jewelry box. Not even a euphemism -- not yet, anyway.

As they kiss, he can hear Scott start getting into it, already making those high-pitched nasal noises that mean he’s nearly there.

Catwoman’s tail turns out to be a massively long flexible dildo. Heh.

Scott’s going to blow on this scene for sure.

Stiles zones out of the movie a bit, listening to the wet slap of Scott’s hand instead. It’s natural, right? Listening to someone get off is totally hot. The bed’s shaking a bit and it’s getting Stiles harder than the hot lesbian action happening on screen.

For the first time since these movie nights started, Stiles tries to be discreet about popping the button of his jeans. He and Scott are usually more in sync then this, usually they are both at around the same stages of arousal so shit like the bed shaking and Scott’s arm nudging Stiles with every stroke is lost in the blur of their mutual need to get off. When that happens, it’s easy to be lost in your own fantasy or the porn playing. Lost in your own head, the sounds your buddy is making is nothing but background noise.

Only this time it’s like being sober next to a drunk, you notice every detail of how drunk they are in a way you don’t if you’re both sloshed.

Stiles is very aware of how turned on Scott is right now. Very. Fucking. Aware.

Scott’s breath hitches, his whole body going tense in a way that only means one thing. Stiles has to bite his cheek to not look. He gives his dick a squeeze and focuses with all his ability on the porn in front of him, knowing that if he sneaks a peek right now he’ll see Scott’s hand messy with come as he milks the last few spurts from his cock. Stiles eyes squeeze shut with that thought, and he takes a minute to get himself together.

He’s sure Scott doesn’t even notice that Stiles has suddenly made tonight awkward, so Stiles just tries to act like it’s not. He squirts some lotion into his hand and focuses on his own dick. He keeps a slow pace, trying to enjoy The Joker’s sudden appearance in the scene. Whoever they got to play The Joker is shockingly hot -- in that evil, will kill you and you’ll like it way. After some brilliantly cheesy dialogue, he’s tapping Sonja’s ass while Catwoman keeps fucking her with her taildildo. (They are calling it a taildo).

It’s thankfully very distracting and Stiles starts to forget how he’d almost ruined things for a minute there.

Scott’s quiet, blissed out and draped against Stiles’ pillows. Stiles can almost forget that he’s there and devote himself to his own (solitary) pursuits.

He’s getting pretty close, his strokes getting faster and more enthusiastic. The bed is squeaking like a bastard just like it did with Scott. Stiles’ face flushes hot, realizing Scott got nothing to do but listen right now. His eyes glance to the side before he can stop himself.

Scott stares back at him.

“Sorry.” Stiles looks away quickly, stammering, “Stupid bed, man. Loud as fuck.” He tries to keep up his pace, but he’s lost a bit of hardness.

“Nah, bro.” Scott knocks Stiles’ shoulder with his own. “It’s cool. Almost there. Again.” He laughs like he’s embarrassed and Stiles sees him out of the corner of his eye grab for more lotion.

He doesn’t mean to mirror Scott’s strokes, but finds he has. And it’s working. He’s fully hard again, speeding to the finish line. Their wrists work in unison like it’s an Olympic synchro event.

Scott’s leaning into him, panting, driving Stiles fucking insane. Stiles isn’t even sure what’s happening in the movie at this point. There’s skin and dicks and mouths. Cheap costumes and masked faces. Mostly there is the sound of Scott beside him and the burning heat where their shoulders are pressed together. When Stiles looks over, Scott isn’t even _pretending_ to watch the porn. Jesus. Stiles’ balls tighten suddenly, and he cries out. The orgasm rips from him before he can even reach for a Kleenex. Come lands on his pants, and a drip on the sheets beside Scott’s knee.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Scott says, breathless, staring down at the jizz that just missed landing on him.

Stiles can hear -- can _feel_ \-- how close Scott is now. When Scott closes his eyes, Stiles feels (almost) no shame in looking. After all Scott watched him, right? It’s weird and different getting off like this. Shared.

Stiles doesn’t blink, doesn’t miss a second of the way the come pulses from Scott’s dick, landing in the same wet spot Stiles had made only a minute before.

Stiles chest burns with something indefinable, and he wonders if something inside him got broken or newly created.

Scott grins up at him and he grins back, helplessly. They both reach for the Kleenex box at the same time. They clean up, lazily, stupid smiles on their faces and finish watching the movie.

When The Penguin gets creative with his umbrella, they start laughing hysterically, falling against each other, not caring that they’ve got their dicks hanging out.

It’s not so weird after all.

**Author's Note:**

> [me on tumblr](http://marguerite26.tumblr.com/)


End file.
